


Fool Me Once

by Avistella



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9103951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avistella/pseuds/Avistella
Summary: You're scared of Zen and how he might hurt you; he reassures you that there's nothing to fear.Note: I promise that Zen in the fic isn't as bad as my summary makes it out to be. ;;





	

Who knew that such a beautiful and perfect being could strike so much fear into you with just a single glance?

Who knew that such feather-like touches could burn your skin like the sun?

Who knew that falling in love would be so terrifying?

Zen doesn't know what to do. The two of you have confessed to sharing your feelings for each other, so why is that you would always recoil away whenever he tried to touch you? Maybe you just weren't ready for physical intimacy, no matter how small, and Zen was more than willing to give you the space that you wanted. He was willing to wait until you were ready to have him stroke your cheek, or pat your head, or hold your hand. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was that you shirked away at his other far more subtle forms of affection. Your eyes would become downcast whenever they'd find him staring at you, his gaze lingering. You would return his loving smile with a small grimace and desperately try to hide it. You would bite your lower lip whenever he told you how much you meant to him.

Eventually, Zen started to think that maybe he was forcing you. That perhaps you didn't really love him as you said you had, and maybe you were merely playing pretend with him out of selfless kindness for him. Zen didn't want that. If you didn't feel the same way towards him, he would let you go. Yes, he'd be reluctant, but he doesn't want to make you suffer with him. He'd much prefer suffering by himself without you by his side rather than have the two of you in such a strained relationship.

"Can we talk...?" Zen asked one afternoon.

You had visited the actor that day on a whim and were now currently sitting straight-up on the couch. He approached you slowly and cautiously, and you moved to the side, giving him more room to sit in. The young man did so, and despite asking if the two of you could talk, it was only silence that filled the air. The two of you don't say a word, lost in your own respective thoughts.

Then, carefully, Zen lifted a hand and placed it on your cheek. You flinched, and for a moment, Zen debated as to whether or not he should pull his hand away. Just this once, he decided to be selfish and gently turned your head so that you would look at him. The young man could see the fear pooling in your eyes, and just when he was about to retract his hand and apologize, you spoke.

"Please don't hurt me." The words had left your lips before you had a chance to stop them.

Zen's eyes widened a fraction at your plea and answered with haste, "I would never—"

You shake your head, interrupting him. ...No, he didn't understand. That wasn't what you were talking about. You needed to explain it to him properly, you realized, not wanting to hurt him any more than you already have with your silence. You press your lips together in a firm line before continuing, "Please...don't ever hurt me."

The actor furrowed his eyebrows together, confused. Why did you feel the need to say that? Did he do something to scare you? To make you feel unsafe around him? Sure, he's had difficulty holding himself back, but he didn't think—

"Don't make me trust you to only abandon me at the most critical time," you said, your voice cracking slightly. You sniffed and wiped the stray tears that had started to form. "Don't give me warmth if you're not going to provide it when I need it most. Don't raise me up only to drop me. Don't give me false hopes. Don't—Please don't make me love you only to have you throw me away in the end—I—Oh god, please don't hurt me with your _love_."

You were sobbing by now, shoulders trembling as you felt your throat start to constrict, and you were no longer able to form words. You loved Zen, you truly did, but there was a certain strike of fear, small seeds of doubt and worry that were planted deep in your heart a long time ago by people you thought you could trust. People that told you they loved you. If that 'love' and Zen's love were the same, then you didn't want it. _You didn't want it_.

Anxiety and fear held you by the throat with every single day that passed by since you heard Zen's proclamation of love for you. You've been hurt by 'love', and you didn't think your heart could handle any more. Shattered pieces of your past self lay at your feet; you were so close to picking them up once again before Zen walked into your life, and your fingers which were all bruised, cut, and burned, momentarily stopped in their motions when Zen uttered those three simple words.

_"I love you"_

You've been frozen since, unable to either continue picking up the pieces of yourself or to abandon who you were overall. And Zen...Zen had no idea at all. He didn't need to know is what you thought, but you eventually realized that you were wrong. So very, _very_ wrong. When Zen asked if the two of you could talk with so much reluctance in his eyes, you knew right then and there that you needed to let everything out, or else—

Amidst your broken sobs, you can hear Zen softly call your name. "Please look at me," he begs, and you can hear the guilt in his voice. Why? He had nothing to be guilty about. It was all your fault—

"It's not your fault," Zen speaks firmly, and you snap your head upwards, surprise etched onto your features. The young man gives a wry smile, "It's written all over your face," he answers your unspoken question. "You're blaming yourself even though you didn't do anything wrong."

"I..." you trail off, not knowing what to say.

Zen shakes his head, "I'm sorry."

"What?" you ask, your voice rising in pitch from his sudden apology.

"I'm sorry for not realizing what you were going through," Zen continued, his voice breaking with each word that left his lips. "And I'm sorry for ever making you feel like you needed to be wary of me, but I _promise_ you: I will _never_ hurt you. I love you. I really do; I love you too much to ever hurt you, whether physically, emotionally, or mentally. You don't need to force yourself with me. Just go at whatever pace you're comfortable with, okay? And I'll try to match it."

There's still a lingering sense of doubt in the back of your mind, but your heart trusts Zen and the words he speak. Slowly, you nod and cautiously reach out your hand to hold his. The young man's eyes widen at your action, not expecting you to make the first move like that, but then he sees just how hard you're trying and gently squeezes your hand for reassurance.

Zen doesn't know what's happened in your past or who you met before him to make you like this, but he's unafraid of walking through this path with you. He isn't afraid of getting dirty as he goes to bend down and help pick up the pieces of your past self alongside you.

 _It'll be okay_. That's what you truly believe.

**Author's Note:**

> More of a vent fic because I'm sad, so I'm not sure if the story actually made sense? I'm sorry ;;


End file.
